Fight Song
by Wayward67
Summary: Sam is exhausted, barely making it through the day. But a friend, will always be there to hold him up. Post S13 finale.


Hollow green eyes. Freckles against skin so sallow; skeletol. Blood trickling from the corners of his mouth.  
A small, weak voice. " Help." He could hear his own heart beat, thumping hard against his ear drums.  
Again, the voice, echoey, "Help!"  
He couldn't move, he couldn't reach out to this voice, he couldn't speak...  
"Sammy, help me!"

Sam gasped and nearly fell from his bed, eyes immediately searching for the source of the voice.

"You hear him too?" A voice said from the shadows. Cas leaned up from his stance against the wall of Sam's room. "I believe it is Dean, trying to reach out to us."  
Sam swallowed thickly,hands braced on his bed, breathing deeply, "He sounds so...far away." he looked over at Castiel, who had moved to sit in the chair by the desk.  
"It's been almost...-"  
"3 weeks, 2 days and 17 hours. I would add the seconds, but somehow that just seems irrelevent." Cas responded,slumping into the chair, spinning it slightly.  
"I should be out there...Looking...not here." Sam breathed out,a hand finding its way to run over his scruffy beard.  
"We both know that you just need rest,Sam. You are no good to anyone if you are passing out from exhaustion. Especially Dean."  
Sam felt his cheeks warm. A few days ago (unlike Cas, his days bled together..) He had been out with his mother and a few others from the apocalypse world, hunting a rogue group of Angels, supposedly low level tie ins with Michael. Sam flat out collapsed during an interrogation. From then on, Mary told him to rest and for Cas to make sure he did just that and only that.  
"How..where is everyone?" Sam asked,slouching. He didn't have much physical strength left in him.  
Cas sighed, "Since you've been resting, Mary and Bobby have been over seeing missions-"  
"No surprise there."  
"In groups of two or three, they have sent some of the others to do jobs."  
Sam scooted back and leaned against his head board, brows furrowing, "Jobs? Like..cases? Don't you think we have a more pressing matter here?" Sam felt his temper rise slightly.

Cas stood, frowning,unsure how to quite explain. There was a creaking noise from the door frame into his room and Sam looked up to see his mom.  
"We ..I haven't given up on your brother, Sam. But there are people out there still who need our help. " Mary walked in, sitting on the end of Sam's bed, "There are still ghosts and ghouls and vampires out there. -"

Sam scrubbed both hands over his face, feeling both exhausted, selfish and angry. But mostly exhausted, " Right..right I know..I know. "  
"You're exhausted sweetie,please,rest. I promise to come wake you when we get something. For now, please just rest." Mary rubbed a hand against Sam's leg before standing again. "Keep an eye on him, Cas. "  
Cas nodded seriously, turning the chair to face Sam. Mary left the room, leaving the two in silence.

"If...if we find him, Cas...what are the chances of him still being...Dean?" Sam muttered, looking at his hands,brows furrowed suddenly feeling quite small. Cas bent his elbows down to rest on his knees, hands clasped, looking at the younger Winchester, whom he had gotten closer to over the last few weeks. Created a bond.  
"I don't know Sam. He is Michael's true vessal. I do think that will work in Dean's favor. "  
Sam was quiet a moment, taking slow, deliberate breaths.  
"I mean, not physically. Will he be..." Sam swallowed thickly,adam's apple bobbing slightly, his eyes burning from pure exhaustion and grief. "Will he be Dean still? "  
It clicked for Cas, who frowned, "I don't know Sam. But, know this."  
Sam looked up, seeing Cas' determined face ignited something inside him; a glimmer of hope.  
"But in the mean time, Sam. You must rest. " Castiel stood, wandered over and pointed to the bed, "We need our coach all in. I think that's the proper term. Also, I do not know Mary very well, but I don't think I'd like her to be upset with me."  
Sam smiled slightly at this. The angel was right: he would be no good to anyone, especially Dean, if he could barely stand. He scooted down under the blankets and forced his eyes shut, feeling a bit more confident than when he woke a short while ago.

Castiel stood over, watching his charge. From one Winchester to the next, He was their keeper. Their friend;

"I will do anything and everything that it may take to save him. I promise."


End file.
